The book "Born To Run" follows the shoeless plight of the Tarahumara Indians—but also of Barefoot Ted McDonald?and has sparked a somewhat controversial trend in running.

A wandering tale that centers on the fleet- and sandal-footed Tarahumara Indians of Mexico's Copper Canyon, Born to Run by Christopher McDougall has created a buzz far beyond tight running circles; it's currently number 19 on the New York Times best sellers list. Barefoot Ted, whose mouth runs as quickly as his feet, is one of the book's central—and most entertaining—characters. We caught up with him to see how his life has been impacted as more and more people discover they're born to run.

Do you feel like you were accurately portrayed in Born to Run? Fairly accurately. Chris is a writer, and he has an audience to entertain so he may have played up some of my personality traits. But I admit I'm a good communicator, and like to talk. I'm willing to take some hits because I'm so satisfied with the overall book.

Were you surprised by the reception of the book? I was one of the first people to read the book outside of the publishing world; I read it in March and it didn't come out until early May. I thought, "This is a masterpiece. It's one of the best books on running I've ever read." Then I thought, "Wait a second, I probably have a bias, since I'm in it." So I wasn't sure. But once it was released, I wasn't surprised to see it hit best sellers lists. I've received thousands of e-mails from people who have been changed by reading the book; it's amazing how strongly the story is resonating with people. It is gratifying to have what I do—and what I've been thinking about for a long time—be so well-received.

What's a typical e-mail message you receive?Readers are so happy to hear that they're not just broken by default. Many people have been convinced, either by the media or somebody in the medical field, that they were not designed to run. They thought of their feet as injury-prone appendages that needed extra padding, protection and support in order to run. That's not the case. If you give yourself the chance to sense the impact of running on your feet, it changes the way you move your body.

In fact, research being released in 2010 will show that people who block off feeling in their feet end up putting a lot more impact on their body when they run. It will have radical implications in the running world when it's released.

Do people recognize you more now? I don't think I'm especially recognized when I'm running, but I'm definitely more well-known in the world at large. My running seminars are really well-attended now. The best moments come from people who come, thinking they couldn't run anymore. They'd done everything for their injuries that money could buy them, and nothing was working. So many Americans want to purchase their solution: if they just find the right shoe, the right doctor, the right gadget, then they'll be able to run. It turns out that if they run how their body was designed to run—and you don't pound the hell out of yourself—the body takes care of itself. People have had some serious Hallelujah moments at my seminars; pretty soon, I'm going to need some snake handlers and a revival tent.

Have you come across anybody who simply isn't built to run barefoot? I can feel the bottom of somebody's foot and get an idea of if they can do it. If you don't have any fatty deposits on your feet or have very moist skin, it will take a little more time adapt. Five Finger shoes can work well in those cases. I'm not dogmatically barefoot, but I am a proponent of using your feet the way they should be used. When you put on most shoes, you dull the nerve endings in your feet.

Trail running barefoot: any words of wisdom you'd like to share? Every step is like a chess move in trail running. During my seminars, I try to get people to concentrate on three things: gentle, quiet landings; quick, quick cadence; and an upright, relaxed posture. I want them to start thinking in real time—not zoning out, not listening to music, but concentrating on their body, listening to their body. The goal is to move in such a way that there are no hard edges. I want them to feel a smooth translation of energy into forward momentum.

A week before I ran Leadville this year, I did Hope Pass in bare feet: from 9,700 to 12,600 feet. I went up and down the pass with no pain because I have developed body awareness. Climbing, especially, is built for barefeet: when I put my foot down on a rock, I know instantly if I have enough support to put my body weight on it. You feel where the loose ground is. Running over really rocky ground in shoes, when your foot is on the same plane and it can't get a feel for the ground below, is much more dangerous than going barefoot. It's no wonder so many people twist their ankles. After you master barefooting, it feels very awkward and clunky in built-up trail shoes.

Isn't it hard to be so mentally focused for 100 miles?For the last 10-15 miles, it becomes harder and harder to do anything right. It's tough to be light on my feet, but I still think about it. Like anything, it becomes easier with practice and experience. The difference between me and many of the other ultrarunners, who are doing the shuffle around mile 75 or so, is that I'm exhausted from going the distance, but I'm not limping or in physical pain. When I ran the White River 50, I had a coaching appointment the next moring and was fine. After Leadville, I completed my busiest coaching week ever.

What are your plans for 2010?I'll run Leadville again. I like being up in that air. And I love the feeling of doing 100 miles well—not hurting myself while training or racing—and then feel myself getting stronger as I recuperate. My body feels like a tree trunk, and it just becomes more solid after Leadville. It's a great feeling.

I don't think I'll do many other races, though. I used to use races as a tool to prove myself and convey to the world the seriousness of my pursuit. Now I am gaining a lot of satisfaction in sharing my experiences with others through coaching.

I'm also getting into balance sports. My noon-time runs, which I call adventure runs, are in Volunteer Park in Seattle, where there's a variety of surfaces, textures and inclines. I like using terrain to get a full workout of running, jumping and climbing. Last year, I covered 242 miles on a skateboard in 24 hours, beating the previous world record of 208 miles. I only trained for six weeks on the skateboard, but because my body was fit and healthy, I didn't need to train for a crazy long period of time. I just heard that a Canadian beat my record, though, so I may have to take the skateboard out again.

Finally, I'm getting involved in MovNat, a philosophy that emphasizes the kind of natural actions and movements that all humans inherently know how to do but have somehow been lost in the shuffle. Jumping, crawling on all fours, climbing, swimming, defending. Like Born to Run, it's going to be another fitness-related paradigm shift.